“As I said, I’m not a priestess.” Liane smiled as she sat across from him and folded her hands in her lap in a way her mother would have approved of. But the urge to fidget crawled over her skin, and it took all her concentration to keep still. She was trying to maintain her composure beneath the unseen stare of the Avatheos, and even though she couldn’t see his eyes, she felt them boring into her just the same.
“I see. Well, I thought we’d start today’s lesson with a demonstration.”
“You’re going to show me magic?” Liane asked, leaning forward eagerly in her seat.
The Avatheos smiled; before now, she would have sworn he was incapable of it.
“Of a kind.” He placed one hand on a velvet bag and the other on a round, smooth ball. “Normally those who show an aptitude for magic have their training started at a much younger age. We test children to see what route suits them best—light magic or the sword. Had you come to us at the appropriate age, you would have gone through both schools of magical discipline to make you the perfect avatar. As it is, time is short, and we must truncate your training.”
She deflated a little further. If there was magic to learn, she would have liked to know it all. The church guarded their secrets closely, and somehow, she thought being the chosen one meant they’d divulge it all to her.
“Don’t be too disappointed. You are her sword born into flesh, and the magic will come more easily to you. I have foreseen it.”
“What is it that I should be able to do? Apart from glow and maybe burn things?”
“Oh, but you can do so much more.” The Avatheos opened the velvet bag and out clattered runes. They were used in death augury and carved from bones. With a wave of his hand, they floated up into the air in front of him. They circled around his head like constellations, spinning around and around faster and faster until they were merely a blur. Then one came flying at her, and she was too slow to dodge it. It had a sharp edge that she hadn’t noticed before, and it sliced into her cheek. Blood trickled down to her chin.
The Avatheos leaned forward and pressed the tip of his finger against the cut, and a warmth suffused her body as pulsing began in her back. It eased the tension she’d been holding in her body for days. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this light and uninhibited by pain.
“You took away my pain,” Liane said in an awed whisper.
The runes floated to him and neatly placed themselves back in the bag. “You have the power to do that and more. You could heal corrupted once you’re fully awakened.”
“Tell me how!” Liane said.
“Magic courses through you. Can you feel it? Traveling through you like golden light?” he asked.
Liane leaned back in her chair. She had been trying to summon her magic ever since the incident, but it was easier when she was under duress. And other than the odd spark of light, she couldn’t do much. Whenever she did magic, it left her with a pounding headache, so she’d stopped trying until the Avatheos could guide her.
“Not really. I was feeling pain, but you took that away...”
He was silent for a long moment, and she got the distinct impression he was disappointed.
“I feared as much.” He stood up, the smooth metal ball gripped in his hands.
He approached her from around the desk, and when the ball got closer, she realized it wasn’t plain metal but covered in unfamiliar writing. It seemed to be alive as the markings zipped around the ball, like a thousand flickering fireflies.
“Take hold of the rune catcher. And concentrate on making the light.”
She took hold of the ball, and as soon as her fingers brushed against it, she felt a zing race up her arm. Then it settled into a tingling sensation, as if the ball were vibrating very slightly. She concentrated on summoning light. She imagined sunbeams, a flickering candle. Her back throbbed with the effort, and after several minutes of hard concentration, all she was able to conjure was a faint shimmer along the ball. And almost as soon as she’d summoned it, it disappeared.
“Interesting,” the Avatheos said, more to himself than to her. And she felt an ashamed blush rush over her.
“Am I doing something wrong? Should I say an incantation or something?”
His tutting and muttering were making her feel exceedingly self-conscious. “You certainly have the sparks of power, but something seems to be blocking your magic.”
“What?”
“We’ll need to find out. Perhaps your power has been too long suppressed and needs something to help draw it out.”
He stood up and walked over to a cabinet at the back of the room that she hadn’t noticed before. He opened its double doors. It was filled with all sorts of strange oddities, odds and ends of various types. He ran his hands along the shelves before he stopped, selecting one. Then, he turned and walked toward Liane with a jagged black blade in his hand.
The blood in her veins quickened, and the closer he got to her, the more her heart pounded. She felt a spark along her skin, and perhaps even a faint shimmer.
“What is that?” Liane asked, fear making her recoil.
“This is a dagger carved from a revealing stone. We use it to uncover hidden magic.”
